


Bed and Board (SGA McKay/Sheppard PG13)

by HYPERFocused



Category: Stargate Atlantis (AU)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 03:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what it says on the package: sandwich / making out / bed + John and Rodney</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed and Board (SGA McKay/Sheppard PG13)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheafrotherdon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/gifts).



> Originally written as commentfic for [](http://sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com/)**sheafrotherdon**'s  
> [sandwich / making out / bed + John and Rodney fest.](http://sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com/401625.html)

The guy wandering outside Rodney's mattress store was hot, at least going by the shock of black hair, weirdly – colored eyes and arresting lips. He couldn't tell much more than that, because of the sandwich shaped sandwich board that covered the rest of him. Okay, most of the rest of him. The guy had nice long legs, too.

And maybe he wasn't wandering, per se. No, his path from one end of the strip mall (Kavanaugh's 14 Karat Kreations – and whoever told him that was a reasonable sounding name was almost as much of an imbecile as Calvin himself) to the other, (McKay's Mattresses) was almost mathematical. Rodney didn't remember a new sandwich place popping up, but it didn't surprise him. Restaurants never seemed to last there. He was pretty sure either the health department, or HSG's – Hot Sandwich Guy – sense of self preservation would lead him to a new line of work.

"You know, that's kind of stupid, a _sandwich_ shaped sandwich board. Kind of like naming a beach "Sandy Shore". This is what Rodney said to Sandwich Guy on his next pass across McKay's Mattresses' doorway. It was a dead day anyway, so he didn't feel bad slacking off and going to talk to the guy, whose name, he discovered after listening to the rest of his spiel, was 'John'. The spiel went like this: _Bread and Meat, what a treat. Cheese and Mustard, always trusted. Open wide. Come inside. Sheppard's Sandwich Shoppe_. "Also, 'mustard' and 'trusted' don't rhyme."

"Do you have anything else to say about the way I do my job?" He raised an eyebrow. 'I'm John, by the way. So now you can insult me by name."

"Rodney." He supposed he could be polite. "And yes. The way you say "Open Wide, Come Inside' – it's kind of dirty.' It is. As is the way he's leaning against the pillar outside of Rodney's store, taking the board off, and revealing a very snug fitting black T-shirt, damp with sweat. It looks good on him, and if Rodney wasn't hungry before – hey, walking sandwich guy – he certainly was now. Only it was a different kind of hunger.

"Dirty, huh? Delicious, too. You should see my twelve-incher." That ought to sound sleazy, but the ridiculous 'har har har' that follows frankly makes Rodney rethink his prurient interest. Sandwich guy – John – is clearly a dork of the first order.

"What are you, _twelve_? And what are you doing walking around like a big sandwich, anyway? It looks like you have at least have a brain. Can't you pay an actual twelve year old to do that?"

"I'm considerably more than twelve. Got the hair to prove it. Besides, I like to walk and think. About stuff."

He did have the hair, covering his arms, tuftng out above the rounded collar of his t-shirt. Rodney could imagine the rest of it. "What kind of stuff is that you think about? Rye vs Pumpernickel?"  
"Actually, I like the swirl. No, mostly I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life next."

"Sandwich guy isn't cutting it for you?"

"It's just a job. I was – overseas – and was forced – I've got some time to decide where to go next."

"Military?" He didn't exactly look on the straight and narrow, which might be why he's suddenly got time to make new life plans. Rodney doesn't say this, of course.

"I wanted to fly. Then I had a bad landing." He doesn't seem to want to talk about it, so Rodney changes the subject.

"You know, a good mattress can really help when you're in pain. I've got a bad back."

"Your back looks fine to me. So does the rest of you." John gave him a not-at-all subtle glance. "I could use a new bed. Maybe I'll stop by so we can test out a mattress or two. Could you recommend something – firm?"

"Oh, please. Does that kind of thing usually work for you?" It probably did.

"I'm just jerking your chain. I'm really not this much of a lech." John held his hands out apologetically. "Let me start again. 'I'm John. Why don't you come by for a sandwich and a glass of fresh lemonade? I'd like to get to know you."

"If you want to get to know me, you'd better skip the lemonade. I'm deathly allergic to citrus."

"I'll keep that in mind. It's a serious invitation, though."

"I can close up shop anytime. People don't seem to be rushing out to buy mattresses today. I meant it, too, though. I'd be happy to help you find the right place to sleep. The right bed, I mean."

"You know, I could advertise for you on the back of my board here. A little cross promotion wouldn't hurt either of us."

The idea held merit. Hot sandwich guy/bed. Certainly it was all Rodney was thinking about. "Yeah, we could do that. I mean I don't need the place swamped – it's nice to have quiet time to get my own work done – but sales have been down."

"See? I think we're going to work very well together. In fact, I'm pretty sure we'll do everything well together." John grinned, snuck in a quick kiss before Rodney could object, then picked up the sandwich board again, and started to pull it over his head.

"Wait a second," Rodney told him.

"What?" John pulled it off again, puzzled.

Rodney looked to see that nobody was watching – nobody was, it was as dead as ever – then leaned in and kissed John back, with intent. "I'm probably crazy, because I don't make out with strange guys dressed up as sandwiches, but yes, I think we'll be good together, too."

True to his word, when Rodney showed up at John's deli, John made him perhaps the best turkey sandwich Rodney had ever eaten. 'Don't worry, there's no citrus in this mayo. I made it myself."

And true to _his_ word, Rodney closed the mattress shop up early so John could test out the beds. Watching the way he wriggled and writhed and finally sighed when he found the perfect match, made Rodney especially glad he had flipped the Open/Closed sign over.

"You know," he said, flopping next to John on the dark blue sheeted Ultra-King.. 'I've learned it's best to test them with two people. Just, no sandwiches in the showroom, please. Nobody likes crumbs in their bed."

Guys in sandwich boards were a different story entirely.


End file.
